


Pornfic 7

by Joy



Series: Pornfic [7]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joy/pseuds/Joy





	Pornfic 7

####  Incentives   |   Black Tie   |   First   |  Persistence

* * *

  


**Incentives**  
(John/Jack)(SGA/SG-1)

**~**

John loved it when a man's hands held onto his pecs, specifically from behind. It was visceral, a reminder of who had him. Not that the dick inside his ass wasn't the obvious answer, but masculine hands on his chest only added to the experience. Right now, those hands belonged to O'Neill and he gripped him in a way he knew John liked.

Getting his ass nailed after three dry months was a wonderful indulgence and John dropped all pretense at focusing on anything else, indulging in the thick lust that had control of him. O'Neill was talking too, and it was filthy and descriptive, filled with requests to keep Dr. Jackson safe and... satisfied. This wasn't one of their typical, if infrequent, fucks; it was insurance, an added incentive. A bribe, if you will. John didn't mind, not in the least. They always needed an excuse. Plus, his own motives were never clean since he almost always fantasized while they fucked. This time, it was about Ronon, as it increasingly was when he jacked off. John had him in his mind's eye, catching them in his office, and becoming the driver behind the wheel, responsible for sending all those shockwaves through him.

O'Neill shifted his hips and quickened his pace, forcing John to dig his nails into the leather desk pad and stop thinking about someone else. It was a reminder and one he welcomed because his cock felt so good. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep sounds to a minimum now that O'Neill was amping up the rhythm. Before long, John had to concentrate on his breathing, careful not to pant too loudly, and hated that this had to be over soon. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked quickly, pulling the pleasure higher, and higher still, until at last that spike he craved rocked through him. He bucked against O'Neill, come spurting into the shadow underneath the desk, and loved how his partner's grip on his hips turned bruising.

O'Neill gasped softly and John knew his turn was coming. He ground back against him, swinging his hips, moving slowly, sensually. Come continued to drip from his cock as O'Neill rode rapidly over his prostate, and with the slapping, dirty need of it all, John began to imagine ways of having this more often. As he always did. Suddenly O'Neill rammed hard, twice, and mashed against his ass as he came.

John loved it, just as he knew O'Neill did, and like O'Neill, he wanted to break apart soon after, unwilling to allow the fade of afterglow. A ready towel was rubbed against his ass and he reached behind him to take it, amazed by its presence. He didn't ask where it came from, for such questions required awkward answers. Instead, John simply preferred to have these interesting little surprises. Like this visit had been.

Or like the note he found on his bed an hour later. _"Consider us even,"_ it said, and it was in Jackson's handwriting. John had an idea that O'Neill had something to do with it being there since Jackson didn't even know where his room was. But _consider us even_?

"For what?" John asked himself. Cleaning up and changing his clothes, he thought about following O'Neill's orders. It wouldn't be difficult. There were places all over Atlantis where he could fuck in private and find out if Jackson's expertise was as wonderful to have as O'Neill had implied.

"I hear you want something from me," said the deep voice behind him and John jumped, turning to scold Ronon for sneaking up on him, never mind interrupting his fantasies. But as John assessed the amused look on Ronon's face, he saw something else there. Quickly, there came an idea, and later on, he was glad to have acted on it because, goddamn, Ronon knew more about the private places on Atlantis than he did. He certainly had no problem demonstrating that knowledge, either. In fact, Jackson might like Ronon to give _him_ a tour, and that new idea conjured interesting images.

"Pay attention," Ronon whispered in his ear as he gave him a particularly wicked thrust. For a brief moment, John thought about asking how the man had known that his mind had wandered, but he quickly dismissed it. Like the note, some things were worth remaining a mystery.

* * *

  


**Black Tie**  
(Jack/Daniel)

**~**

_I can't see a fucking thing!_

No need for a blindfold. The blackness covered it all. The only thing now was to figure out how he'd blacked out. But wait, there was that last drink. There was the movie, the pizza, Jack's offer for last call...

And now, Daniel had awakened, not in his bed as he would have expected, but on some soft rug or carpet with his right wrist handcuffed to a metal loop in the wall. He was naked and there was nothing happening; no sound, no sight. Anger started to rear up.

"Someone's gonna get their ass--"

Daniel's words were cut off as large hands touched his waist from behind and encircled him. He gasped, and angry at himself for doing so, he started to yell, but parting his lips was all he had a chance for. A mouth closed over his and before he thought about biting it and the tongue that would follow, he caught whiff of a scent. And odor.

Jack's odor.

Anger turned to bewilderment in seconds, and then he was kissing him back without even registering that he was doing so. Then one of the hands--he was sure it was Jack's. God, it had better be--reached down to take his cock in hand. There was no finesse involved. It was an action designed to rev up his engine and hit 60 in _3.5 seconds_. Pumping him, rapidly, and the tongue in his mouth wrestled with his own. When he puffed out a breath through his nose, the warmth of a body pressed against his back. His ass.

Then a wet streak across his ass, and the all-too familiar sensation of a cockhead probing between his cheeks. The other hand cupped his balls, diverting his attention while the cock rode between his ass cheeks, seeking its hot, warm glove. The proximity drove Daniel's lust out onto his skin, nerves sparking a demand for more.

He moaned, a desperate sound. Jack kissed him harder and moved his hips. Daniel's anus resisted, played hard to get, but it didn't matter. He was being filled, slowly at first, with a burning need for speed.

"Please," he half-whispered into his lover's mouth and reached up to snatch a fistful of hair, to deepen the kiss to get his point across.

Jack complied with a _wonderfully_ brutal thrust and Daniel gasped, mouth hanging open with hunger and awe. Jack's tongue ran over his lips, his cheek, behind his ear, to nip and bite over skin until he clamped his teeth on the side of Daniel's neck. Daniel tightened his fistful of hair, pulling down for a harder bite.

It came, accompanied by sudden rapid thrusts that forced him to steady his hips to keep the cock inside. His balls tightened and he knew he'd come soon. Too much sensation, too much ...

Then Jack bit down and it was painful and good and oh god!

Daniel stared into the blackness, yanking the handcuff and the fistful of hair, his hips jutting violently while come spewed from his cock. Jack didn't let up, didn't let him recover. His touch was so keen it hurt and Daniel panted out whispers for Jack to stop despite his own hips following Jack's.

Then the handcuff was released from the wall and Daniel was shoved onto his belly, the rough fall softened by the long fibers or hairs of the rug. A sheepskin, he idly thought. And his thoughts were indeed idle because the rapid fucks Jack gave him left him no brain to use. No desire to talk, to do anything but beg his ass in the air for more.

Always more. Jack's weight settled on him, pushing thrusts and twists and all with teeth still clamped onto his skin. But the bite was different. On the other side of his neck now and Daniel could feel the wetness all over his neck. He hadn't even noticed Jack biting him his nape.

Then Jack moved a hand to palm his forehead, holding on for leverage. His rapid thrusts started to stumble, breaking the rhythm, and he was coming now, grinding into him so fitfully it seemed he wanted to rip apart the rug.

Dead weight almost, with afterglow's side-effects. Time went by like molasses, sleepy and thick. Then kisses came with gentle hands and spooning. Daniel dozed, not wanting to disturb the air with unnecessary questions or demands.

When brain activity returned sometime later, he smiled at Jack as the lights came on. Still, no words. Just getting dressed and going home.

Next Friday night, every Friday night. It never got old.

* * *

  


**First**  
(Jack/Daniel)

**~**

Beneath the blanket, the sand was still very warm; the sun had set hours ago. The Abydonian night was silent, the sky clear and the stars bright. Jack's face was in silhouetted shadows, with black spots for eyes, nose, mouth.

Daniel gripped the back of his knees and raised them, giving Jack the offering. Here he was, his friend's first. The first kiss had been soft and warm, but with the trembling that came with doubt and fear and lust. Jack was forty, but his mind and body were sixteen all over again. With a body under him, covered in light sweat and aching need.

"Yes," Daniel said to him softly. "Yes."

Jack's face blotted out the stars as he leaned over him, positioned his cock, and began to push. Daniel opened for him, half-closing his eyes against the momentary burn and long-awaited pleasure. He groaned, a quiet sound that gave Jack permission to do the same. Slowly, he filled him, and Daniel slid his hands over Jack's ass, pushing the trousers further down.

"Now fuck me," he encouraged. Jack started slow, tentative. The shadows of his face seemed to clarify for a second, but they blurred as Daniel reached up to take off his glasses. He returned his hand to Jack's ass cheek, and he tilted his head back slightly. Then the whispering began.

"Yeah, that's right, fuck me. I've known all along that you've wanted this. To feel my heat, my ass. To suck my cock and have me suck yours."

Jack gasped and sped up his rhythm.

"Harder, Jack. Let go. I know you want to. Let go and _fuck me_."

And he did. Several times that night and for days after. In the temple at 4 a.m. Behind the gate at 3 a.m. In the sand, on a blanket. On all fours, on the side, with his hand, his fingers, his mouth.

Before Jack left, Daniel took him aside, behind the pillars in the cartouche room. He'd planned to suck Jack dry, but to his surprise, it was Jack going to his knees. Gentle, shaking hands, cradling his balls and fisting his cock. Then Jack licked the tip of his cock, testing the taste, and Daniel gasped. He fought not to buck, especially when Jack's lips surrounded the head of his dick and sucked him like a lollipop. It was glorious and hot and Daniel knew he wouldn't last long. This was too sweet.

Then Jack moved his hands to the wall Daniel leaned against, and held them flat while he bobbed and licked and sucked. It was too good; his mouth was heaven, his tongue hell, and Daniel could've died then a happy man. Then Jack sucked him a bit too hard, grazed him with teeth, and Daniel sucked in a gasp and clung his fingers in Jack's hair.

"Careful," he warned, but Jack wasn't listening. And he was swallowing more of him. Much more.

Daniel bucked, and grabbed Jack's head, trying to get him to stop. "I'll come," he warned. That didn't do much good either.

Jack moved a hand to Daniel's hip, _encouraging_ him to thrust, and still Daniel resisted. Until slick fingers surprised him, sliding into him. Daniel gasped in pleasured alarm and his knees nearly buckled. He could have sworn he felt Jack smile around his cock. Then the action began, with his mouth and tongue driving him to the cliff and Jack's fingers throwing him off.

Daniel fell, hard and keen, spilling down Jack's throat with wanton abandon, and before he had a chance to take a breath, Jack was on his feet, pants down, pushing him against the pillar and filling him. Strong fingers bruised his hips, pulling him back with every thrust, rapid and hot and sticky with sweaty lust. Harder, deeper, Jack fucked him for ages, twisting his hips to vary the pleasure. Daniel's prostate was rubbed at times, and he began to grow hard again.

That had _never_ happened before. Not with anyone. Daniel slowly fell to his knees and hands, grateful that Jack willingly followed without pulling out. Then came the deep, slapping thrusts he loved, and with Jack, it was made a hundred times better. Panting harshly, he let his cock swing untouched until he knew Jack would come.

It came too soon for his liking, but when he felt Jack stiffen, he grabbed his cock and pulled and pumped hard and fast. He let out a small, hard squeal, cutting off the sound with his teeth biting hard over his lips. Noise still escaped his nose and he couldn't help that. Not at all. Not ever again.

Jack pulled him back to his knees and held him in his arms, the tender post-coital moments he seemed to love. "Come back with me," Jack whispered. "Don't stay here."

"Give me a better reason than this," Daniel breathed back, hating Jack for asking.

Jack grew silent. Moments passed, long after the glow of sex had worn off. Daniel sighed and started to move, but Jack held him fast. "Because I want this to continue," he finally said.

It wasn't good enough. Daniel needed to hear more. Unfortunately, Jack wasn't ready to say more.

......

A year and half passed, then Jack was back, and with an attitude of payback, filled with damnation and brooding. The alpha male and his growling bear routine and smart mouth.

Daniel couldn't sleep; his dreams were filled with sex and longing. He left his marriage bed for the sounds of silence on the sand, now cooled. Perhaps a visit to the cartouche room, no longer guarded from neighboring thieves.

He entered the dim cavern, shadows jumping from his torch, and sat down on a bench to stare at the wall filled with addresses of places he wanted to go. It was time to leave. But to _where_?

Hands on his shoulders and Daniel jumped, but couldn't stand; they held him fast. He sat there, waiting, and the fingers started to caress, to massage his aching neck. Then his face was cupped and eased back. A shadowed face looked down on his once again, as if from a dream he repeatedly wished to have.

"Because I want you to," Jack said.

"Why?"

"I can't say it yet."

"Say something then."

Jack paused. "Because I care."

Daniel smiled and leaned back against Jack's groin. Now he knew _where_.

* * *

  


**Persistence**  
(Jack/Daniel)

**~**

"Yes," Jack said, a strange grin on his face that seemed to be a bizarre mix of perversity and sternness.

"No," Daniel answered.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Goddammit, Jack. No."

"Goddammit, Daniel. Yes."

Back and forth for minutes on end. Daniel was going to kill him. Yes, that's what he was going to do. Jack was a stubborn bastard but so was Daniel. And if he didn't stop, something bad would happen.

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

_"No!"_

More and more. Neverending! Daniel's patience was fraying. If Jack didn't shut up ...

The intercom sounded and an incoming transmission was declared. It was a reprieve, but Daniel knew it wouldn't last long.

When they were alone again, Jack started up. Again.

In the infirmary, mouthed silently. Bastard.

In the mess hall, with a whisper in his ear. Daniel ground his teeth and skipped lunch.

Work held Jack off for a while and Daniel was able to get his mind off him and his damn request. Then came the mission brief for the next day. Jack's wheedling simply moved from his mouth to his eyes. Daniel stopped looking at him.

Peace, finally, when he went home to sleep. And the next morning, when they were alone in the locker room, Daniel dreaded the time. But again, the demand was still in Jack's eyes but he said nothing.

Shit. The only thing that'd changed was the method of communication. Daniel ground his teeth and forced himself to ignore Jack, except when it was absolutely necessary to answer him in front of others.

Then came the recon mission. Daniel felt his spine tingle, his balls sweat, and annoying nerves seemed to be alive in the hairs on his legs.

But suddenly, the demand left Jack's eyes. All during the recon, things were fine and returned to normal. Jack had finally seen things his way and Daniel told the small part of himself that was disappointed to shut the hell up.

But in the middle of the night, in the tent he shared with Jack, Daniel was awakened from a deep sleep by the slick warmth of Jack's mouth on his quickly hardening cock.

Daniel wanted to yell, to scream, to hit Jack across the face. There was an eternity in a full second's time when he indulged in the _beautiful_ sensations of Jack's lips and tongue. Then he growled with sudden anger and threw Jack off him. "Fuck!" he hissed, and he'd had it. He had had. It.

With his cock hard, he shrugged off his briefs, then tackled Jack and held him face down on his sleeping bag while his hands took care of business. Nothing but spit, but who cared, and he rode on top of Jack writhing beneath him. It was act. All an act. Jack could buck him off easy, the fucking bastard.

With little care about causing pain, he shoved his cock into Jack's ass and began thrusting, holding him down with the rest of his body. Jack squirmed and pushed and Daniel put an arm around Jack's neck and held him in half a headlock while he fucked him hard and fast. "There!" he hissed quietly. "Happy?"

He fucked him with brutal precision, angling his hips in twists and bucks until he had Jack squirming for other reasons. Muffled panting into the sleeping bag, sweat soaking his t-shirt, Jack stopped moving and raised his ass as well he could. Muffled words now, buried in the stuffed bedclothing, but Daniel knew what he was saying anyway.

He bared his teeth and angrily spat, "Fuck you," in Jack's ear. Harder now, more violent than before, and suddenly Jack was coming. He twitched and froze, followed by spasms and fists. Daniel ground against him and climaxed, the primal pleasure a momentary feeling where everything was alright and Jack wasn't a pain in the ... well, you know.

Then Jack was loving, forgivable, and things returned to normal. Until the next time Jack wanted another rape fantasy.


End file.
